Ukraine: Christ does not change

In war-torn Ukraine, Pastor Oleksandr Gross leads with faith, supporting displaced families, children in difficult circumstances, and rebuilding hope.

In this Voices from the Communion, he shares how the Ukraine war affects the life in his church, and how to share faith in dark times.

06 Dec 2024
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Ukrainian pastor Rev. Pastor Oleksandr Gross. Photo: GELCU

Ukrainian pastor Rev. Pastor Oleksandr Gross. Photo: GELCU

Pastor Oleksandr Gross talks about resilience, advocacy, and faith at wartime

(LWI) - Pastor Oleksandr Gross was born in today’s Russia and has been a pastor in Odessa for 22 years. He has been instrumental in supporting communities affected by the ongoing conflict in Ukraine, collaborating with international partners to provide humanitarian aid, including medical supplies and housing for internally displaced persons.

His efforts have been recognized by various organizations, highlighting his commitment to peace and social justice. In this Voices from the Communion, he talks about the impact of the war in Ukraine on his church, the German Evangelical Lutheran Church of Ukraine, and congregational life and about building hope in times of war.

Can you tell us a little about yourself, and how you became a pastor?

I was born in the North Caucasus region, Southern Russia. In 1988 I came to Ukraine to study. I only came to the church when I was 22 years old. Where I was born, in Russia (at the time, the Soviet Union), there wasn’t a church, but there was one in Western Ukraine. After I had been in the congregation for two years, they asked if someone could lead the service, because there wasn’t a pastor. So, my congregation in Western Ukraine sent me as a volunteer preacher to Odessa.

I was ordained at a theological seminary in St Petersburg, where I had spent a year working with students. After that, my Ukrainian church invited me to return. For ten years, I worked in the bishop’s office, overseeing education programs, organizing trips, and managing diaconal work.

In school, I always sat in the back row—I’m an introvert. Public speaking? That was absolutely not for me, you know? But God had other plans. The first time I preached, everything changed. I realized I could stand on the pulpit, and from that moment, I felt certain this was my calling. I hope that confidence never leaves me.

Two years after the beginning of the full-scale war, how is the situation in your congregation?

A small church means many tasks for one person. I am pastor of five congregations now, because we are not enough pastors. All of them are small churches with small congregations. I am a fulltime pastor in Petrodolinske, and part time in Novohradivka and Odessa. My congregation in Odessa is the biggest. Our church is a beautiful building, more than 100 years old.

In addition, I visit the congregation in Kryvyi Rih and provide spiritual care for the congregation in Zmiivka, which is partially connected to our work in Petrodolinske and Kryvyi Rih, mostly through humanitarian aid. The church in Zmijivka is destroyed. It is right at the riverbank of the Dnipro (Kherson oblast) and has been bombarded the entire time from the other side of the river.

It is a lot of work. At the beginning of the war, 80 percent of our members left the country. Many have German roots, and when the war started, they used this connection to start a new life in Germany.

The war brought new people to our congregation. On Sunday, we have 40-50 people attending the service. In the three years since the invasion, we celebrated confirmation three times. Most of the people we confirmed were adults.

How do you sustain church life in times of war?

Despite the challenges, we are still very active. We hold concerts and organize Christmas markets. Through these efforts, we aim to show the people in our city what the church can offer during such difficult times.

Our congregations are deeply involved in social initiatives. We supported 1,260 people, providing them with food and various forms of assistance. Rather than centralizing the distribution in one location, we visit these people in their homes. For many, this is essential to maintaining their dignity. In addition to food, we provide school supplies, furniture, and whatever else we can find to help.

We have developed strong relationships with eight villages in our area, where we work with the elderly, children, and families. In fact, we’ve opened another center for children from families living in difficulty. But overall, life in the past year has become even harder for people. Among the elderly in our programs, we’ve seen a rise in mortality. People can’t afford medicine and live in constant fear. In the last six months alone, 10% of the 1,260 people we support have passed away. That’s an enormous loss.

In addition to our social work, people in the congregations organize a variety of activities, such as youth programs, children's events, and music classes. We’ve set up a children's center for kids from families dealing with alcohol-related issues. We effectively run a small school for 14 children, who come for meals, do their homework, and receive other support.

My main challenge right now is finding a place to organize social services. Renting has been impossible—nobody wants to rent out their property for work with poor people. That’s why I’m fully focused on planning the reconstruction of the ruins of our historic church building. The restored space will house a children’s center, expand the capacity of the community kitchen, and provide rooms to shelter people in the worst situations during winter. The congregation in Novohradivka will also finally move from my private home into a proper house of God.

There is a lot of military action around Odessa, and you have been called to the conscription office. Are you in danger of being drafted?

I hope that won’t be the case. I recently visited the military office to obtain a document allowing me to travel abroad. Over the past two years, I’ve visited 15 countries on diplomatic missions for my church. Sharing the reality of life in Ukraine with others is crucial. In the beginning, I must have given over 100 interviews, including radio appearances and other platforms, in Germany and many other countries.

I believe I can contribute more by advocating and sharing our story than by fighting on the front line. Our social work in the neighborhood is equally important. We care for children and host 24 internally displaced persons (IDPs) on our church premises. This work is essential and requires constant effort. I believe my contribution through social and advocacy work can have a greater impact in helping those in need.

Have you ever thought about leaving the country?

I had the opportunity to leave. I have excellent contacts in the United States, and they offered to help me get out in February 2022, when it was still possible, and the situation was already looking dangerous. But I said, "No, no, no—that's not possible. How can a shepherd run away when the wolf comes?" A shepherd must stay with the people in need. None of the Lutheran pastors in Ukraine left; all of us stayed.

My wife chose to stay with me. We have two grown children who are students in New Mexico.

Are you tired?

Unfortunately, yes, most of the time. The constant fear of being conscripted is exhausting. I’ve worked closely with the military, helping them significantly—whether through providing food kitchen support or other resources.

Now that I’ve been caught up in the conscription system myself, I’ve seen firsthand how outdated and inhumane these procedures are. It’s not acceptable. They might not like my criticism, but I will continue to speak out.

I don’t have much physical strength left to keep serving, but everything rests in God’s hands. He provides all we need. My motivation also comes from the people who need help—I can’t turn a blind eye or a deaf ear to their needs.

What does it mean to you that the country where you were born is now attacking your home?

I still have two brothers in Russia, but we have no contact. I only speak with my mother, and even then, only about once every two months. When we talk, it’s just, “How are you?”—and nothing more. They’re afraid to ask questions or say too much, and I don’t want to provoke anything either.

How do you manage to share the good news and hope after two years of war?

Christ does not change. We can always speak with him. In our sermons, we don’t discuss politics directly, but I address how to cope with its impact—how to face hate and fear without letting them destroy us.

Life continues, even in times of war. Four months after the invasion, we built three playgrounds for children in nearby villages. The people were surprised that we would build a playground in such a situation, but together with the congregation council, we said: People need positive signals. I believe that’s incredibly important.

Through our work, we demonstrate a different kind of church—not one that simply stands by, but one that goes to the people, supports them, and meets their needs. The challenges we face have also deepened our understanding of faith and strengthened our commitment to our wider communities.

LWF/ C. Kästner-Meyer